If you don't fight, you die
by Penitence
Summary: She was a loner and had no wish to change it in any way. But the day she met Rick Grimes, she found a family, friends and so much more. Note: English is not my native language. I apologize for any errors that are certainly present.
1. Home sweet home

''How many Walkers have you killed?''

''Far more than I can count.''

''How many people have you killed?''

''A lot.''

''Why?''

Silence.

Rick Grimes used the time to look at the woman more closely, who stood right before him.

Her dark black hair was tied in a ponytail. Her figure was slim and delicate and yet she was agile and skilful. He should know because he had seen it with his own eyes.

Only a minute ago, she had saved his life.

As far as he could see there was pretty face beneath all the filth and dirt.

But the most streaking feature about her were her eyes. Her left iris shone in an icy blue color, her right in a rich warm brown. If he should have to find just one word to describe it, his choice would have been: _extraordinary_.

But for now he drew his attention back to her body language.

The young woman was tense.

The last question, that he had asked her, didn't seem to fit her taste at all.

''Do I have to answer that question?''

''Yes,'' answered Rick.

Once more there was a long deep silence.

Rick was a man with principles.

Especially in times like this in which the world was ruled by chaos it was essential for surviving to follow certain common rules.

Everybody had to answer the questions without exceptions.

Rick waited until he was convinced that the young would rather choose the option to follow her own path again but then she said: ''Because they deserved it.''

That was more than enough for him.

He had no real interests in her motives.

The only thing that had really matter to him was the fact, that she had told the truth.

And that she had.

He just knew it.

His instincts as a Police Officer had told him that.

With certain amount of time, he had developed a certain intuition for particular things in life.

A short nod in her direction told the young woman that she had satisfied his admission criteria.

Silence engulfed them as they walked side by side.

From time to time, Rick glanced in her direction, before asking, resulting from a mixture of pure curiosity and old habits: ''Why are you all alone?''

Her gaze wandered to him, meeting his steel blue eyes and lingered there for a few seconds.

''I prefer to be alone. It's easier this way,'' she replied, when both of them climbed over a fallen tree trunk.

Rick extended his hand to her to help her but the young woman didn't pay attention to his gesture.

There was a small smile on his lips as they continued to kept walking in silence.

''What's your name?'', asked Rick, trying to start a conversation once more.

The young woman stoped dead in her tracks.

''Is this going to be a interrogation?,'' she said and looked askance at him. ''I thought I had passed you little test.''

Although it was easy to overlook, Rick noticed that her grip around her own knife had become a little bit tighter.

She was very careful around him- Clever thing.

''No, don't get me wrong but we are a community. Everybody knows anybody. We are always there for each other. We always help each other,'' after a long pause, he continued, ''I'm Rick. Rick Grimes.''

Hoping that his own honesty would help her to trust him a little bit more.

The dark haired woman uttered a long sigh.

Rick had already told her the terms and conditions and she had decided, at least, to give it a try.

''Helen Smith'', she replied and squeezed his hand that he had extended to her one more time.

After that, Rick turned his attention back to the uneven road.

He could already see the concrete building in the distance.

It wasn't far away and the certainty to be home soon, quickened his pace.

 _'_ _Home'_ could there be a more unfitting word to describe a place like this?

A place that once had been build to lock people up, to take away they freedom, not to protect them from the undead.

But it was all he had.

His family, his friends. His _life_.

Everything that he held dear lived behind those walls.

What could he want more?

Despite her small frame, the young woman had no problem to keep pace with the former sheriff. The daily fight for survival had taught her much better than any real teacher, of flesh and bones, could ever do.

The only thing that bothered her a little bit and slowed her down was the constant pain in her left ankle.

Because she was very good in hiding things like this, Rick only noticed, just in the moment as her discomfort was showing in her facial features, that she was injured.

''Are you alright?,'' he asked, as he took a few steps towards her, examining her from head to toe.

At first sight, he could not see any physical wounds.

No blood, no bite or anything like that but Rick knew, from his own experience, that this didn't mean that everything was alright.

''Yes, I'm alright, but my foot hurts. I think a sprained my ankle,'' she responded as she grabbed his shoulder that he had offered her beforehand reluctantly - it relieved her pain in an instant.

Both of them continued to walk in this new formation until there had reached the white lattice fence from the prison.

A gray haired middle-aged woman came into sight and opened the gate in the very same moment in which she realized that Rick had returned from his little getaway.

''Who is that?,'' she asked curiously, smiling friendly at the strange woman and the leader of their community.

''Well,'' said Rick, smiling back, ''you could say that this young woman is my life-saver'', as they walked further together.

''Oh well, if that's the case, then you are very welcome.''

''Home sweet home'', Rick whispered, pressing her shoulder gently, as the door opened up.


	2. Little shrimp

**Author's note:**

First of all I'm very sorry that it took so long to translate the next chapter. I hope you can forgive me.

Second: Before you read the next chapter I wanted to say a few things about this work. I began writing this story about three years ago. Meaning: I made decisions in this story which, I think, if I would write this story again I probably wouldn't make today. But for now, I don't want to rewrite the whole story just for the sake to make it ''better'', you know what I mean?

I know this story isn't perfect.

I did what I did and it is what it is, and, personally, I think that is alright.

I'm just telling you this so that you know there will probably be a huge gap of development between the beginning of this story, everything that will follow, until today.

To restay:

Thank you! I'm happy to hear that you like the start. Yes I think that is the right term for her different eye color.

To Eman:

Well I think I have to disappoint you in that. My story will take a little different turn _**but**_ I hope that this will also suit your taste. I don't want to give too much away so I won't say anything ;)

—

''Thank you,'' Helen whispered, in the moment, after Rick had helped her to take a seat and the older grey haired woman had placed a heavy loaded plate before her on the table.

''Well, I think I will leave you two ladys for a minute,'' with a last look at Helen, the Sheriff took a leave and disappeared through one of the doors that, which he knew, would lead him to the prison cells.

''You must be hungry,'' the older woman guessed as she handed the strange woman a pair of cutlery which lead her to realize that she was indeed very hungry.

The only thing Helen could manage was a small nod. Because, honestly, all the sincere care about her well being threw her off guard. Moreover, she noticed, with a certain amount of discomfort, that almost every pair of eyes were glued to her face.

She was being stared at like an exotic animal that they had never seen before.

The elder woman didn't seem to be bothered by that fact at all, took a seat beside her and said, almost immediately, ''So, nice to meet you. I'm Carol. What's you name?''

''Helen,'' answered the young woman, before she took a bite from her plate.

Because Carol didn't push her any further and and took the task to hold the conversation, Helen had no problem to open up a little bit to the elderly woman.

Because Helen listened mesmerized one of Carols stories and didn't pay much interest to her surrounding she flinched with a start, as a warm hand touched her shoulder blade.

Helen raised her chin and looked in the friendly face of an old bearded man.

On his right side she could see Rick, who smiled at her.

,,Hello, my dear,'' the Older said, ,,I'm Hershel and if you don't mind I would like to inspect you foot.''

He smiled at her an waited for her to reply.

''Alright,'' Helen mumbled after a pause and shifted so the end of the bench so that Hershel could reach her without any problems.

The elder man got a little clumsy-looking to his knees, took her shoe and socks of and touched her ankle very carefully. Helen could feel that the skin of his hand had a rough texture but pain, was the one thing she almost felt nothing of.

''You are very lucky. It's nothing to worry about. A support bandage will do,'' Hershel said, before he asked Rick to give him the bandages.

Hershels working steps showed Helen that he knew what he was doing. And when he was ready he helped her standing. The pain was almost gone, yet Hershel checked the results nonetheless and doing that, he asked Helen questions about her well-being. Since her attention was now fully drawn to Hershel she missed that, just in this moment, the entrance of the prison was opened once more.

''Helen?!,'' came a voice that Helen was more than familiar with.

The young woman looked up and thought that her eyes would playing tricks on her mind.

''Michonne? Oh my god, I thought you-,'' was everything she should say, because Michonne had ran to her and clasped her in her arms, holding her so tightly, that it took Helens breath away.

This display of her unusual show of emotions left the others in a state of mild bewilderment. Michonne almost seemed like a different person, as she held the young woman in her arms.

''I thought I would never see you again,'' Michonne murmured with a voice that was nothing but a whisper.

''Me too. I thought that you didn't make it. I'm so glad that you are alright,'' Helen whispered.

''Now I know whom Michonne always talked about. Is it true that you make the best pancakes in the world?,'' asked a little boy who had just peeped through the door until now.

He wore an old police hat, walked closer and looked at Helen with his big blue eyes. Just one look and Helen assumed in an instant that this could be Ricks son.

,,Well, if you get me ingredients I will make you a bunch of them tomorrow'', Helen answered, smiling fondly, when she noticed the little twinkle in his eyes.

''What is that? A little chit-chat round?,'', asked a deep bored voice to her right side.

Helen, looking for the origin, saw a man that stood beside Rick.

Hands buried deep inside his jeans pockets. Deep blue eyes that were fixated on her. And with a face as dark as approaching thunder.

With a last glance at her face the took Rick aside an talked to him in a hushed voice but despite that Helen could hear fragments of their conversation.

''Hey!,'' Helen called suddenly. ''I saved Ricks life and he offered me to stay here. I didn't impose myself, okay?! If you have a problem with that you can talk to me!''

Helen made an interesting image like that: she was so small that she had raised herself on her tiptoes so that she could poke him on the middle of his chest.

Daryl could have almost laughed about her boldness but there was something else that had captured his attention. Not once in his lifetime Daryl had ever seen such impressive ordinary eyes. For a moment he was completely petrified.

''Hello? I'm talking to you,'' Helen said, arms akimbo.

Daryl blinked a few times and when he regained his speech again he growled,''Listen here you little shrimp! We all work for our food here we a not the welfare. So get a move on and make yourself useful!''

His words were nappropriate and unfair, he knew that much, but it didn't stop him from being so rude to her. He could see that a faint redness tinted her cheeks and that eyes gleamed with unspoken fury.

Michonne knew this look all too well. Although she was certain of that it would have been interesting to see an altercation between Helen and Daryl, she chose to interfere. She knew that Helen must have been exhausted and tired, although it didn't seem like it.

Before Michonne had the chance to do that, Carol was the one that defused the situation. She stepped between the two squabblers an said to Helen, ''I bet you are tired, Helen. How about Michonne and I show you around and talk a little more in private?''

Only then Helen and Daryl gazes broke away from each other.

It was true: Helen was tired. Confused, happy, furios and hurt. But indignation was the most prominent emotion of them all. How could he dare to speak like this to her? The last word has not yet been spoken, she would make sure of that.

But for now Helen accepted Carols offer.

In the last moment, when Helen stood near the door with Michonne and Carol, Daryl looked in her direction one last time and had almost choked on a piece of bread when he saw that Helen had stuck her tongue out to him.

How old was she?

Twelve?

He was about to ran after her, but Rick, which had seen gesture too, kept him at his side.

''Well, ist seems that she is full of spirit, don't you think?,'' Rick said smiling, as he passed Daryl a plate.

''If you ask me, she is nothing but an annoying little shrimp,'' Daryl replied biting.

Ricks answer for that was a simple shrug.

With that the matter was sorted out for the time being.

Daryl kept his silence but seethed inwardly.

From the very beginning he wasn't fond of the idea to provide protection for almost everybody that crossed their path nowadays and the arrival of this little annoying woman seemed to prove his opinion perfectly. Safety in numbers, wasn't exactly always the right choice.

Although he couldn't knew what the future would behold, there was one thing, he was absolutely certain of: him and Helen would never _**ever**_ becoming friends.


End file.
